


Fuck My Life: And Other Poems

by Kaylele



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bad Poetry, Epic Poetry, I'm Bad At Tagging, Inspired by Poetry, Poetry, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:28:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25878172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaylele/pseuds/Kaylele
Summary: Want some terrible fucking poetry? No? Well me neither, but here ya fucking go
Comments: 4
Kudos: 1





	1. The Villain

Why are you in the ground?

You with all your horrors

Encased in your casket of calamity

Was it painful to die 

To leave your loved ones behind

You must have loved someone, I'm sure

Though it's hard to tell

When you're just an outsider staring in

I feel as though I never knew you

And yet I KNEW you

I knew all the stories

All the pain

All the time it took to heal

And yet there are times when it seems 

We never healed at all 

Would it be better if you were alive?

I've heard the stories 

Bit of memories

Slivers of secrets 

Things that I've pieced together

That they never thought I'd piece together

Would you have treated your daughters right?

Would you have loved them?

Does it hurt to look at what we've become 

Or are you proud of us?

Are you proud of me?

Do you regret your way of life?

Do you regret anything?

Because I do

I regret so much and yet nothing at all

It's a strange sort of feeling 

That makes me sick to my stomach

I want to go back

I want to change 

And I yet I am happily content with who I am

What I am

It's hard not to think of you

When I stare into the star-filled void at night

Would you have loved me 

If you were alive 

Why aren't you alive

I know why

Though I hate the answer

It's sickening to think about

To think that you're the villain in someone's story

To think that you were the villain in my own

For so long

Too long 

But I know the truth

That sometimes there is no true villain

That sometimes life is difficult and cruel 

And sometimes things are confusing 

And before you know it something that seemed right

Isn't right

But it's too late to take it back

Sometimes the blood on your hands isn't the blood of justice 

But rather the blood of anger 

And it hurts more than just yourself

Sometimes your free will strips away the will of others 

Sometimes it makes them a slave

And sometimes you don't realize it

Until it's far too late

Until it's so late

That it's deadly


	2. Lost Lake

Who has sat here 

Upon this bench 

In the mists of the lost Lake 

What stories have they told 

What secrets have they shared 

What memories do they hold 

There's writing etched into the plastic 

Names of those who have been here before 

Carlos, Kristen, Susan

People with lives and memories and stories

Stories I will never know 

A whole lake of possibility

A whole lake of stories 

What lies has this lake heard 

What love has this lake seen 

I can only begin to imagine

What beauty could come 

If people would share their stories

What sympathy we would have 

If we took the time to read them 

We would see the love 

The pain

The pain that rises from love 

And the love that comes 

When there is so much pain 

The trees in this park have so many eyes 

What kind of love have they seen 

What secrets would they share


End file.
